


Dash Five Two

by Savanna (terrified_dreamer)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Acrophobia, Detroit, Deviant Connor, Dpd, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Other, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Revolution, Slightly serious, The little shit, based on a tweet from Bryan Dechart, but I love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 20:55:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15590544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terrified_dreamer/pseuds/Savanna
Summary: Connor finds himself having more difficulty lately chasing after suspects. Because he is so determined to prevent them from escaping, he often gets into dangerous situations...many of which have Connor scrambling across tall and sometimes unsound structures. Reasonably, he's a little apprehensive every time there's a suspect to catch.Luckily, Hank promises to be there for him.





	Dash Five Two

It was raining again, making the city dark and gloomy as clouds blocked out the sun. Connor's clothing was getting soaked as he ran through the downpour, the curl of his bangs sticking to his forehead, and rain droplets resting on his eyelashes. Surely, if he was human he'd be shivering and breathing hard right now. Although, he found his energy being used up quickly, his thirium pump working overtime as he sprinted down the pot-hole covered street. He felt just as tired out as a human would be.

Connor rounded a corner onto another street, and the suspect he had been chasing for ten minutes already was back in his sight. He knew that if he didn't speed up, he'd lose the suspect, who was running just as fast as he was. Connor's LED briefly spun red as he pushed his body to move faster. He heard people yell distantly behind him, the lieutenant and police officers who he had long since abandoned while in pursuit. He thought that it was too bad that Hank couldn't be by his side to arrest the suspect with him.

Up ahead, the suspect veered to the left and climbed up a fire escape with ease. Connor followed, struggling a little as his smooth hands slipped on the wet metal bars. He was still up in record time, now on the roof of the building. The suspect was already on the roof of the next building over. Connor followed, LED spinning yellow as he acknowledged the small gap of the alley between the buildings. He followed the suspect across the string of rooftops, until there were no rooftops left.

The suspect hesitated at the edge of the last roof, glanced behind at Connor, then jumped up and fell out of sight. 

Connor halted to a slippery stop, his LED whirling red. He looked out and thought of his options as quickly as possible. There were no buildings tall enough nearby. There was a ladder to the side that he could climb down; it was safe but slow. Eight stories below was an open dumpster that the suspect had fallen down into. There were two mattresses that promised a better impact than the trash bags beneath them.

The suspect was already climbing out. Connor had to choose quickly.

"Shit," he cursed as he rushed to the ladder. He held onto the sides and used them as a fire-pole, sliding down quickly. His hands warmed up from the friction.

He turned around and sprinted after the suspect, knowing that the fifteen seconds he had lost could very well lead to a bad ending of his pursuit. The rain seemed to be pouring down more heavily, to the point that it was hard for him to see. The suspect was wearing dark clothing, colors that blended in with their dull surroundings. 

Connor knew that the People Mover, a train of sorts, was close by. He had to stop the suspect before they could get on it. Connor was willing to chase them on the People Mover, but he wasn't sure where it would stop and knew that Hank didn't want him to go too far away, so he was a little apprehensive.

He turned onto a busy street. The suspect wasn't too ahead of him now, and thus began to knock stuff over in hopes of slowing Connor down. Connor jumped over the first one, a trash can, and slid under the bike that was mid-air from being chucked at him. As much as it slowed him down to dodge them, it slowed the suspect down to knock them over. Eventually the suspect must have noticed and gave up.

The suspect darted out into the busy street and dodged an incoming taxi. Connor followed, waiting for a truck to pass before jumping onto a car's roof and jumping over a motorcyclist, getting to the other side of the street. He rushed after the suspect, his LED spinning red as he watched them use a ladder from a construction site to climb up onto a balcony. Connor mimicked their actions and was on the suspect's tail. He followed them up onto another balcony, and then another higher, and continued this until they went around the corner of the building. The suspect was walking on a neon sign now, the lights flashing and making the rain before them appear different colors. Connor glanced down as he stepped onto the flat top of the sign, and his stress level increased at seeing how high up they were.

The suspect made it across and swung into an open window. Screams inside the hotel room followed. Connor nearly cursed again before making it and lowering himself inside. There were screams again from a woman standing on her bed. "I apologize, ma'am," he got out before rushing out the open door into the dim hallway. The suspect glanced over their shoulder at him and darted around the corner.

Connor followed, and for a second he wondered if he should threaten the suspect with his gun, but then when he rounded the corner he saw the suspect on the floor. A short woman with a cart of cleaning supplies held a dented metal bucket in her hand. She raised it at him, so Connor threw his hands up. "My name is Connor, I'm a detective at the DPD. This is my suspect."

She lowered the bucket. "Lord give me strength," she muttered. "He was running at me like a mad-man. I was going to pepper spray him, but he was clearly an android. No human runs that fast."

Connor grabbed handcuffs from the back of his jeans and clamped them onto the suspect. Soon enough, the suspect opened his eyes after a short reboot. He looked up at Connor, blue blood running down his temple. The suspect looked away in defeat, and remained silent as he was led outside.

 

*

 

Connor leaned towards the bathroom mirror and adjusted his damp hair. After Hank and the others had found where he and the suspect had ended up at, they promptly took the suspect to the department. Connor was to interrogate him soon, but he wanted to clean himself up first. He had a change of jeans in Hank's car, but unfortunately there was nothing he could do about his jacket or dress shirt, which was still soaked. Holding them under the hand dryers had done nothing, so with no other choice he put them back on. It shouldn't have bothered him so much, he knew, but he couldn't help it.

Connor looked at the string of numbers on his jacket, at his serial number. It ended in -52. His original was -51, but thanks to the deviant named Daniel, he had once died. It wasn't a big deal for him at the time, and even now when he was a deviant it didn't bother him too much to have died. What bothered him was the way he had died. His LED spun red just thinking about the rooftop. In order to protect the girl and save her, he had replaced her with himself, thus him and Daniel falling to their deaths several stories below. Daniel had fallen onto a taxi, he remembered. He had his eyes closed at the time, but he felt it and heard it down to the last second of his existence.

He didn't like heights.

Unfortunately, that seemed to be all he ever dealt with. Chasing deviants across rooftops, over gaps between buildings, across shipping containers on a ship, and more. Then, once deviant he had to plunge down into water from Jericho hundreds of feet up. If that wasn't enough, a month ago he had to walk across a rusty crane sitting on an abandoned freighter, and two weeks ago a part of the MacArthur Bridge had collapsed underneath his feet.

Connor really didn't like heights--sometimes he'd get a strange feeling and a glitch in his software. When he told Hank, Hank said it was anxiety driven by his fear. Connor didn't understand exactly what anxiety could encompass in an android, but he knew the feeling of it, and he didn't like it.

He had felt the fear whenever he jumped, how only air was beneath his feet. Even though there was the promise of ground returning to him, like when he had jumped balcony to balcony, all he could think of was the hostage situation, and how the ground suddenly slammed up against his head. He worried it was going to happen again, that he'd feel weightless in the air, and then would crumple against cement like a ragdoll.

Even now, safe with the bathroom floor tiles beneath his dress shoes, Connor felt anxious. He wanted to see Hank, not to tell him what happened but just for him to be there. Hank was the only person who knew about his fear, the only person who could reassure him and tell him that he would be okay. 

The bathroom door opened loudly. "There you are," came Hank's voice. Connor looked at him through the mirror. Hank asked, "What're you doing? The suspect's ready in the interrogation room. You alright?"

Connor turned and tried to smile. "Sorry, Hank. I got distracted. I'm perfectly fine."

Hank gave him a look. "Connor, if you want to lie to me, maybe you should take your LED out."

Connor bit his lip. He had forgotten; no doubt it was spinning red. He definitely felt stressed, and it showed in his vision, a 73% hovering to the right. "Sorry. It's nothing, though. I was just thinking about the case."

Hank nodded slowly, deciding whether he believed him or not. "You know, witnesses told us about what happened, how you ran across four fucking rooftops." Hank stepped closer to him. "How you climbed balconies up to the tenth floor." He tilted his head and lowered his voice, "If you need to talk about it, just reach out to me. I totally get it. I fucking hate roller coasters and all that." He set a hand on Connor's shoulder and squeezed, "It's nothing to feel bad about, son. And if you ever feel that it's too much, you can give up. I'd rather you be safe on the ground than be up on rooftops putting yourself in danger. Stopping suspects is never more important than your own life."

Connor nodded. He would have objected a few months ago, saying that there were more models of him, but now they were all free, so Connor definitely couldn't afford to die again. "I know, Hank...I couldn't let him get away. Not this one."

"Fine, I get it. But you better not start saying that every damn time." Hank removed his hand. "Now take your jacket off. I'll let you use mine for now."

Instead of arguing, Connor just accepted the offer with a small smile. He took his off and accepted Hank's, shrugging it on. It was clearly too big for him, but it was warm and it smelled like Hank, Sumo, and donuts. It kept Connor grounded, and he greatly appreciated that.

"Now, do you want to interrogate the bastard, or are you sitting back on this one?"

Connor quickly shook his head, "No, I'll do it." 

Hank led him out of the bathroom. "Great." He tossed Connor's soaked jacket onto the cubicle wall behind his desk, then led him to the interrogation room. He patted him on the back, "Break a leg."

Connor nodded, determination in his eyes. He paused for a moment, though, thinking about Hank's invitation to speak with him about his fear. He looked at Hank and said, "Thank you. I might take you up on your offer."

Hank nodded silently and went into the room where Gavin and an officer waited. Connor walked into the other room and took a seat. He pulled Hank's jacket tighter around him, letting it calm him. He then began, picking up the folder of information and slamming it down. "SIX bullet wounds!! I'd say you were bad at aiming, but you just didn't want to give her a chance, did you?!"

On the other side of the glass, Hank chuckled and looked on proudly.


End file.
